


A Short Stab to the Ribs

by VeryLateTrash



Category: South Park
Genre: Aged Up, Angst, Comfort, Death, Hurt, M/M, Soulmate AU, They adopted children, pain connects them
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-24
Updated: 2018-01-24
Packaged: 2019-03-08 18:17:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,950
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13463826
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VeryLateTrash/pseuds/VeryLateTrash
Summary: Soulmate au where pain is the connecting factor. Craig remembers when he first felt the pain. Craig remembers when he last feels it. Then, Craig feels it again. And, Tweek? Tweek causes all the pain Craig's ever felt.





	1. Chapter 1

"It was a normal, boring, and okay day, which I'm all for. I don't need to be sucked into anything that Stan and them always seen to be getting into. Mecha Barbara Streisand this, Peruvian flute band that; it's all too stupid.  
"Anyway, I was doing something. Probably just laying down in my bed and contemplating my boring life, as usual, when I felt a dull, sudden pain in my side. I think it was around my ribcage.  
"I remember sucking in pain, and rolling over onto my side. Clyde, ...was it Clyde?, yeah, Clyde was there with me. He was playing on my Nintendo. I'd gotten a new game from my grandma when I told her what happened to my birthday money. Huh? Yeah, she was great, but that's not the point.  
"Well, anyway, Clyde looked over at me, and started asking me twenty questions, though it felt like a thousand. Clyde was rambling and asked if I was going to die. Poor guy. He'd still been kinda traumatized about his mom's death. He'd started being a bit more clingy after that, but I guess anyone would, right? Right.   
"So, I didn't know what to tell Clyde. I just started randomly hurting.   
"We went downstairs to ask my mom-I always asked my mom personal stuff; she was just easier to talk to than my dad-and she told me that it might just be growing pains, and I took that as a pretty logical answer. I had been growing recently and was getting pretty tall.  
"So, I started to hurt immediately after that. My nose, even. I literally felt like I was being punched straight in the face. I remember stumbling a little, and my mom's eyes got so big.  
"She didn't know what to do. You see, my family is all very logical. They don't believe in soulmates, or anything remotely supernatural-though, they were still Catholic. Tell me how that makes sense. Don't mean to offend you, but in my opinion, that's not very senseful at all.  
"Anyway, so, my mom took me to the doctor the next day. She was afraid that I was suffering from sort of weird delusion. The doctor, he set me down real gentle, and explained that some people were connected by pain. Like, an empathy thing. And, when you find out who the person us you share the link with, you know they're your soulmate.  
"Now, I thought this was completely ridiculous. This doctor was insane. I even told him, with a blank expression, that he needed to have his medical degree revoked.  
"He just looked at me, gave me a pat on the shoulder. He smiled at me, 'One day you'll believe me', and then he let me leave.  
"The next day, I was sitting with my friends. I can't remember who all was there. I know Tweek, Clyde, Token, and Jimmy were at our table. Maybe Kyle and Stan and them, too, but that's not the point. Point is, I told them about what I'd felt the previous day.  
"Clyde believed me without hesitation. He'd always been really gullible, so no surprise there. He started rambling a bit about how maybe Bebe was his soulmate, and he was literally going to punch himself in the stomach to see if she would feel that pain.  
"Fortunately, I stopped him before he actually did that. Anyway, I remember Tweek was looking up at me-I was taller than him-and asked what time the pain had happened. I replied with a shrug, 'Around 3-ish?'  
"Tweek's eyes were huge. They were such a clear blue, I remember. He started to freak out a bit. He'd run away from the lunch table, not stopping to excuse himself. Curious, Toke and I went after him. When we found him, all curled up by his locker, he was pulling back and snapping the rubber band he wore on his wrist.  
"I'd raised my eyebrow at him, asking him what the fuck he was freaking out about. He twitched. I was so awkward. I wasn't ever really good at the whole communication thing.  
"Token was a bit better than myself, so he knelt down and asked Tweek what was wrong. Tweek just gave off a little sigh, 'I feel bad. My dad said that I could hurt someone in my practices. Like, when I get hurt, someone could feel it.' He'd said something like that, but with more stutters and pauses.  
"That's when the pieces started to fall into place. Tweek had boxing practices around that time. And, he was wearing a bandage across his nose, like it'd been recently injured. My blush was ridiculous, I remember.   
"It took me so long to eventually tell him that I liked him, and what my suspicions were. As I said, emotions aren't my strong suit, and communication falls along with that. But, Tweek was somehow a bit easier to talk to. And, listen to me now; I'm practically rambling to you about this. Of course, you're a therapist, so I guess that's what I'm supposed to do... I'm sorry. I've been talking for so long now."  
Craig looked over to the woman he'd hired recently to help him sort out his thoughts. She was scribbling down what he was telling her on his patient sheet. She looked up at him, and Craig wondered if she felt his eyes on her.  
Uncrossing and then recrossing her legs, she carefully spoke, "So, how do you feel now? Do you still believe he was your soulmate?"  
Craig nodded, "That's the one thing I truly do believe in. He's just so beautiful...or was...I don't know, anymore." Craig sat up in his chair more, twiddling his thumbs, "The last thing that was clear to me was a blow right here." Craig laid his hand over his forearm. "As soon as I felt it, I knew something was wrong. I was taking care of our son, Clyde-he's the one we named after our friend, he practically begged us to-anyway, Tweek was off at a tournament. I guess that's why I was so immediately worried.  
"He, um, he'd broken his arm, and it was supposed to be a simple operation. Someone slipped, and his bone marrow flooded to his blood, killing him immediately. It was...Doctor, it was awful. That phone call. The pain was excruciating, worse than any pain I'd ever felt when Tweek went to a tournament. Even the ones he lost, though those were a bit of a doozy.  
"Anyway...I don't know what else to say. I don't feel much of anything anymore. I have children. Two wonderful kids who care about me, but they're hurting, too." Craig started to tear up, "I'm so lonely, and I feel so selfish. I don't know how to raise my kids. You know, Tweek and I were planning on adopting more, but I'm not even capable of taking care of Clyde and Juliet!"  
Craig wiped at his eyes, "And, I haven't been able to work as well. My boss knows that I'm going through this, but he still wants me to be able to work on my project. He's not a dick; i-it's just that I'm the lead of the new Mars mission, and I'm stuck in figuring out who to persevere enough fuel, and-" Craig cut himself off.  
His doctor, who's name was Lily, sighed, "Just hang on. I'm going to call for an increase on your dosage of citalopram, and call for you to day a couple of days off of work. It'll be excused because of medical needs."  
Craig nodded, standing up. His hour with her was over.  
She bid him a goodbye, and he left, walking from her office back to his house. She'd suggested him on his first appointment to walk more instead of drive. The exercise and lack of pressure of being behind the wheel was supposed to help, but it didn't, really. Craig only went to her because she was nice to talk to and was a good way of killing time.  
Juliet was seventeen, about to graduate, and leave. Clyde was eleven, and Craig still had seven years to raise him. He was scared, but he was going to push through.  
They needed him to be happy and stable so they could lean on him. Goddammit, Craig was going to he there for them. They deserved it. And, Tweek deserved his children to be safe.  
Craig gritted his teeth, and went inside his home. Clyde greeted him, waving excitedly, "Hi, dad!"  
Craig wasn't faking it when he smiled down at his son, ruffling his hair. He was happy that Clyde was able to be getting happier.  
Craig went to make them dinner, one thing he was somehow good at. Putting things together in a logical order even when things are so stupidly illogical that it hurts your brain. That's Craig's expertise.  
When dinner was done, and his children were sitting with him in the living room, eating and watching TV while chatting lightly, Craig felt more peaceful, more at home.  
It was bittersweet. Craig could somehow see Tweek in his blonde kids, even though they weren't biologically either of theirs. They were so supportive of him, and he tried to be that for them, too.  
Craig looked out of the window, and suddenly, just as he had years ago, felt a spike of pain in his side. His eyes flew open. What?   
Craig thought...Only one person for each...Was Tweek al-...No, Tweek's been gone for some time now.  
Craig shook his head. It was coincidence. Until he felt another bit of pain...


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wowie. I wasn't going to add a second part to this until I saw the notes it's gotten. Hope you enjoy!

Craig's head was spinning. He tried to suppress the pain in his side, to no avail, really, but he wouldn't let his children know what he was feeling.  
Craig glanced over at Juliet, who was rubbing her temples, an odd expression on her face. He really wished he'd read all those books on parenting that Tweek had stacked up a mile high. Craig would never forget just how excited Tweek was when they got accepted by the adoption agency. The blonde started running around place to place, store to store, buying all the things he thought they'd need.   
Craig hadn't bothered to tell him that they didn't need all the stuff he'd gotten. The look on his face was too precious. He was practically bouncing with joy. Round baby blue eyes poured out love for him. And, when they met Juliet, all that love doubled. Craig could never figure out just how Tweek could have such a never ending supply of adoration and care for his family. He never seemed to get tired when he was around them, even after a long tournament.  
Craig remembered when Juliet was a bit older. She said that a lot of people in her class had siblings, then she practically begged, hands clasped, lip pouting, and eyes wide-she shared those big eyes with her father-for a baby brother.  
She was so young that she didn't understand that it was different for her parents. They couldn't give her a sibling in the same way that the other kids' parents could.   
But damn, those eyes had melted him. Clyde came along quickly. Craig assumed that since they were proven to be good parents, the agency hadn't had to be so slow moving.  
And the baby fever started all over again for Tweek. He claimed that since they were getting a boy, he'd need to go shopping again for clothes.  
Craig snorted at this. He never figured out why Tweek seemed to have to justify his actions to Craig. Craig only wanted to have Tweek be happy. If having children and buying things for them made him happy, then he'd call the agency a thousand times. He'd go to every damn shop in the entire town, the entire state, if he had to.  
He just wanted the blonde to be happy.  
And, now, as he saw his daughter cringing, holding her head slightly, he thought all those same thoughts again.  
He asked, "Are you okay?" The slight pain in his side was growing.   
Juliet looked up, eyebrows furrowed a bit, but she gave him a slight, pained smile, "I'm fine. Just a little headache."  
His stomach hurt, not from the same source as his side, but from a small, familiar knotting of his innards. Tweek would always say the same thing when he was getting migraine.  
Craig stood, going to the kitchen and reaching up to one of the higher shelves. Tweek had stashed all of his painkillers up here. He claimed that they had to be out of reach of the kids, but he'd put them up so high that he ended up not being able to reach them himself. Craig remembered laughing so hard that tears stung at his eyes. Tweek just folded his arms, telling him that he was childish.  
Craig grasped a bottle of asprin, going back to the living room, and placing them in Juliet's palm.   
The nod of thanks and small smile was worth the pain in his side as he walked. They'd all eaten, and Clyde was yawning, a small fist running at his eye. "I wanna go to bed, Dad."  
Craig always got a rush of emotion when his kids called him that. It made all this feel so much more real.  
Craig nodded, standing again-he had to grit his teeth; the pain in his side was growing-and reaching out for Clyde, who held out his arms. Craig lifted him up and walked to his room, painted yellow and dotted with blues and greens. Tweek had said that he wanted the kids to be able to have their rooms look like what they want. They'd brought Clyde to a store that sold all sorts of paints, and let him pick out the colours he liked. They'd made a day out of it, even giving Clyde a brush and letting him add dots and splatters where he wanted. It was his room, after all.  
Tweek had his hair brushed back into a short pony tail. He was wearing an apron, and his face was flushed from all the work. Craig remembered his hand was coated with blue paint, and he touched the side of Tweek's face, earning a yelp from the blonde and a look on his face so fierce that Craig was slightly afraid for his life.  
Craig tucked Clyde into bed, and the boy smiled. He left, flicking on the lamp Tweek suggested for him, and turning off the overhead light.  
Craig passed Juliet in the hall as she headed up to her room. They exchanged a warm goodnight, and Craig was alone.  
He ran a hand over his face. The widow didn't know what to do now. It was too early to sleep, but too late to do much else.  
He entwined his fingers together, a nervous habit he'd picked up every time he didn't have Tweek with him. Craig sank into the couch, laying his head down on the arm of it, and curling up with a blanket that had been stretched across the back of it.  
He was almost asleep when the pain brought him back into the world of the awake.  
Craig huffed. This didn't make sense. He wasn't injured. And, fuck you, world, he didn't have a soulmate anymore. His was gone, okay? Gone. Dead. Killed by some guy that struck him too hard.  
Craig remembered that guy at Tweek's funeral. He knew that most people would've been beyond livid with him, but Craig couldn't muster that emotion. The fighter had lost his career because of the accident. And, Tweek had lost his life.   
He'd went up to Craig, arms behind his back, "I'm so sorry. I-I...Your husband, Tweek, he was a good guy. I, we, he...we were too into it. I was too into it." He shook his head, "I'm sorry, man."  
Craig had flinched away from him. He didn't feel like talking to him, or anyone. It had taken Clyde, Token, Jimmy, all his childhood friends to finally get him to start crying. He'd been numb to it until then.  
His soulmate was dead. And yet, he was feeling pain so awful that his ribs felt like they were going to crack.  
Craig winced, gritting down on his teeth that weren't so good in the first place. He reached over to the little coffee table that Juliet had set the asprin on, and poured out two into his hand, choking them down. He'd never been very good at swallowing pills.   
(He'd never been very good at anything, a voice at the back of his head whispered.)  
He forced himself to sleep, listening to his heart beat slow down, and the pain in his side lessen to a dull throb.  
...  
The next day, Craig was woken up to the lights being turned on, followed by a high pitched, "Sorry, dad!"  
Clyde was shouldering his bag, already dressed for school. Oh yeah, the kids had to get to school.  
Craig sluggishly stood up, knowing it was his responsibility as a parent to push aside his problems and take care of his children.  
Craig slid on some shoes, not bothering to change; he'd probably just go back home after dropping them off, anyway.  
He ruffled Clyde's hair, making it stick up a bit, "Come on, then, kiddo. I'll get you some breakfast along the way."  
Juliet was already gone, he knew, she was driving herself around now.  
Clyde grinned, "Yay!" He ran out the door and hopped into the passenger side, sliding off his backpack and putting it in the space below his feet.  
Craig grabbed his keys which were hanging on a small rack that he put by the door, intended to hold keys and other small forgettable, yet important, items.  
Craig stopped at a donut shop along the way to the elementary school, letting Clyde pick out a couple of treats and some milk. He got a hot chocolate for himself. Despite, or perhaps because of, living with Tweek for so long, he really wasn't fond of coffee.  
Craig dropped Clyde off near the front office, letting the kid jump out and shoulder his back again. He waved, "Seeya, dad!"  
Craig expressed his fondness for his son in the form of a wave, and then drove off. Craig wasn't sure what to do now. He didn't have to go into work, so he was stuck waiting around for school to be over so he could pick Clyde back up.  
Craig 'tsk'd, shrugging. He decided he'd drive around for a little bit. Maybe he'd see something to do. His heart skipped a beat when he passed by Tweak Bros. He hadn't been in there since...Craig did a U-turn, not caring about any cops that might see him and fine him.  
He parked outside of the shop. He wasn't even sure who ran it anymore. Tweek's parents were retired and Tweek was...well, he wasn't going to be running a coffee shop any time soon.  
Yet, it was still open. Craig had gotten offers to take over the business. Mr. Tweek had said, with a smile that was too bright for a man who just lost his only son, that he was family, and if anyone should run it, it should be him. Richard had even said that it'd attract business-people seeing that he cared that much to run it in the name of his husband.  
Craig wasn't all too surprised. Mr. Tweak had used even his son's queer sexuality to his advantage. (Not to mention the fact that he was the cause of Tweek being addicted to drugs for half his life.)  
Craig shook the thought. He was given a surprise. "Pete?"  
The noirette was busy wiping off the countertop; he didn't even look up, "Yeah. What do you need?"  
Craig blinked, "What are you doing? Working here?"  
Pete finally looked up, "Oh. It's you." He looked better than when Craig last saw him. They really hadn't seen each other much. Just in passing when Craig was bored, laying on a booth in the shop while waiting on Tweek to finish with his shift. (Craig never did understand why-or how-Tweek ran this place when he already had a job. He was a professional boxer!)  
Pete was, according to Tweek, one of their loyal costumers, and now... he's bussing tables.  
Craig's throat was dry, "Dude. Why are you here?"  
Pete sighed, "I don't fucking know. Richard asked me, after he said you turned him down, if I wanted to run this place. He said he wanted it to go to someone who cares about it. I just-whatever. I took the deal. I have nothing better to do."  
Craig noticed the pain in his ribs had subsided. He blinked, "That's super cool of you, man, but you shouldn't have. Move on with your life. I can't stand to even be here." Craig could see a memory in every nook and cranny of this building.  
Over there, in the corner booth, was where he'd take naps waiting on Tweek. And, in the back room, was where he once thought it'd be funny to throw flour on him. And, right here...where he realized he was completely in love.  
Pete's jaw tensed up, "I told you. I have nothing better to do with my life. Michael's off teaching students with disabilities and prosthetics and shit, Hen is writing poetry and putting out music. Firkle's fucking married to *your* little sister!" Pete's voice raised, then dropped down to a mere whisper, "And, Stan's with Wendy." The man before him was practically trembling. "I-I have nothing but this shop now."  
Craig's eyes dropped. He felt like he should do something, but he stopped. The pain, like a warning, rose again when he was thinking he should leave. Craig bit his lip, not saying a word as he went behind the counter and put on an apron.  
Pete's sad, tense scowl dropped, "What are you doing?"  
Craig shook his head, "I don't know. I guess I'm working with you." Just like that, it went away. The sharp clawing, stabbing, aching pain in his ribs was completely gone.  
Pete's expression grew softer, "I...Okay. Then, damn, go wash your hands, you heathen."  
Craig snorted, feeling genuinely able to laugh for the first time in so long, "Yes, sir."  
The day passed by the two so quickly that Craig had to toss his apron aside to run to his car, "Hey, Pete, gotta pick up my son. Don't give away my job, alright?"  
Even his headache was gone. Craig wondered what kind of pain he'd been feeling. Was it a driving force telling him to help the company-help Pete-, or did he imagine it?   
Craig wasn't sure, but he knew he had to go back and work at that shop, for whatever reason. Somehow, someway, he'd keep both jobs. Work at his NASA base in the morning, and rush to Tweak Bros. in the evening, if he had to.  
Craig hadn't ever been so sure about something in so long. He wasn't going to question the pain in his ribs. It was gone now, and that's what matters.   
As he thought out a plan on how to help Pete, he could've sworn he'd felt a light kiss on his cheek, but noone was around him.  
He looked up toward where he knew the stars were hiding in the day's light. Maybe it was Tweek, all along, that guided him to not only help a struggling coffee shop and its newly found owner, but to find peace with something he never would've without it.


End file.
